


Gale Force Winds

by JoshuaWoode



Category: Family Changing Room
Genre: F/F, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Parent/Child Incest, Pedophilia, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23946766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoshuaWoode/pseuds/JoshuaWoode
Summary: The origin and further adventures of Gale from "Family Changing Room."
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Gale Force Winds

### Gale Force Winds

"You're doing it again, princess."

I felt my face get hot. I'd been lost in my book. I didn't mean to do it. It just happened. Good thing it was Daddy who saw me. Mommy gets so mad at me if she sees me. It's scary how she yells. It makes me feel so dirty, what she calls me.

"I-I'm sorry, Daddy. I just... forget sometimes. Like when I'm reading."

Daddy touched my hair. We were sitting together on the couch, me with my book in my lap, him with his papers. He always had papers with lots of tiny words and numbers all over them. He tried to show me once but I didn't understand any of it.

Daddy looked at me for a long time, like he was thinking. I couldn't tell what was in his head.

"Please don't tell Mommy," I said.

"It's upsetting for her, sweetheart. She doesn't want to see you with your hand in your pants. It's not... polite. You know how she is about making everything be proper."

I nodded slowly, a knot in my tummy. "Please Daddy. Don't tell her." My lip wouldn't stay still and my eyes were filling.

He set the papers aside and pulled me into his lap. I laid my head back on his chest. "It's a conundrum, little one." I didn't know what that meant, but he didn't sound mad. "You like it, don't you? I suppose that's... to be expected."

It was embarrassing to talk about. "It's just... cozy, Daddy. It makes me warm and comfy and it helps me sleep. And then when I'm not thinking about anything... it just happens. I don't even know how. But then my hand is there."

I felt his breath on my neck. "There are worse things, pumpkin, despite what your mother says. I suppose we can make an agreement, you and I."

"What sort of agreement, Daddy?" He made agreements for his work. This felt important.

"Well. Perhaps I won't tell your mother, and you can try your best not to do it when she's here. You'll try to think and remember and only do it... when I'm here."

"Like a secret." It was scary and thrilling, if me and Daddy had our own secret.

"Yes. Like a secret. I'd keep your secret, pumpkin. If you can remember. Just with me. Just with Daddy. I won't tell."

I nodded. He kissed my head. "Thank you Daddy." The knot in my tummy started to untie.

His lips were at my ear. "Then it's agreed, Gale." He never used my name unless he was very serious. He squeezed me tight and I felt safe again. Then a whisper. "You know," he said, very very quietly, "it's much easier to do it if you take off your pants."

**************************

That memory comes back to me still, and often. When it comes I'm all of six years old again. The miasma of feelings, so big and confusing for such a little brain. But I had Daddy. It was him and me, together. Mommy wasn't part of it. Daddy was keeping my secret, keeping me safe. I soaked in the attention like a desert flower in a thunderstorm. As it filled me, I opened. I came to relish how he looked at me, then to crave it. Each new thing brought a sharper intensity to his eyes. After a time it wasn't him suggesting, provoking, instigating. It was me.

He fucked me when I was ten, at my insistence. He'd have been happy with blowjobs, bless him. But I hadn't fulfilled my mission yet. I wasn't his wife. After that, I felt like I was. I owned him, and he me. It was perfect.

Then I got older. Then there was my sister. She was seven when I was twelve. When my body started to change. And Daddy's eyes turned to her.

My jealousy and shame and rage spilled into the already boiling cauldron of hormone-induced insanity that is a teenager. I lost my mind. In that, I lost everything. I told. Daddy was gone. My mother hated me worse than she hated him. Then Daddy was really gone. They said it was an accident, his car flying off the bridge. I never believed that.

Is this why I do what I do? Is it the pain I'm trying to heal? Or am I trying to inflict it on others? _Misery loves company,_ one person said to me.

Thing is, I don't feel miserable. Not anymore. Empty, yes. Sad. Wary of relationships, unable to fully trust. And hence single at age 32. On my own, but not miserable. Sanguine, perhaps. I am what I am because of what I was and these feelings... these needs... they're a part of me that it's just impossible to ignore. I could hate myself, but somehow I've decided not to.

**************************

I had to put my anger into something. Thank god for swimming. The coach liked me. He said I had potential. I didn't want to be at home. I asked him if his wife liked sucking his cock. He said no, she didn't. He put me up in an apartment when I was sixteen and he trained me. By eighteen I was a state champion in the butterfly and had a modest college scholarship. My escape route.

Fast forward fourteen years. Here I am, still at the pool. Three thirty PM on a Friday, with twenty latchkey kids whose parents have entrusted to my care for the afternoon. The parents are either too busy or too lazy to spend the time with their children. Many of the families are disadvantaged. This program is a source of real joy for those kids. It can make a difference. I help them to understand what it can mean to take a sport seriously but still have fun. I love the light in their eyes, the ones who take to it.

This time, there was a rich girl. I knew about her ahead of time. A sad story. Her mother was gone. Her father, rich -- and therefore busy. His trophy wife sucking down the Oxycontin had been an annoying inconvenience for him. He'd sent her to rehab and had the divorce papers served to her there.

The girl was terrified, seemingly of everything. Most especially of the other kids. They weren't all her shade of ivory. They didn't all speak the same language, even when they were speaking English. Obviously she hadn't been raised amongst diversity. She was being dumped here to get her out of her father's hair for a little while, and she knew it. Somewhere inside she probably wondered if she'd get papers served, too.

Things like that make me angry. Life's unfair, I get that. It's frightening to feel like you've got no control. I can't help it. Seeing her cringe and shiver triggered me.

When we were done on that first day, she sat on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water, kicking listlessly. I sat next to her as the others filed off to the lockers, their voices too loud.

"What's up, Bethany? It's time to go." She didn't look at me.

"My Dad can't pick me up til 6. And he won't let his driver pick me up. Cuz he wants to be Dad all of a sudden." An edge to her voice. Cynical already at age eleven.

"I see. Well, it's free swim time. You can stay in the pool if you like. Or change and hang out in the rec room."

She glanced over her shoulder toward the locker rooms. "No thanks," she said.

I understood. Privilege affords the luxury of modesty. None of _those_ kids were were going to see _her_ body.

We were quiet for a time, listening to the slap of the water. She seemed to assent to my presence, so I took a chance. "It's sad about your Mom," I said. "Sorry to be personal. Just... it was in the papers. That must be so hard for you."

"I hate that everybody knows." She practically spat it. I suppose when you're wealthy it gets easier to hate the embarrassment of a situation more than the root horror of it.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"At least you didn't tease me."

"I never would. If you knew about my family, you'd understand why I wouldn't ever tease anybody about anything like that."

She raised her eyes for the first time, studying me. Sea green. I smiled as gently as I could, reached and pushed her auburn hair back behind her ear. Pixie cut. Easy to take care of. Or following the rash of boyish hair inspired by Emma Watson, though that was mostly over. Maybe it was retro now. She blinked but took no exception to the touch.

"You know, there's another place to change." She deserved a break. She had so little, despite having so much.

"Where?"

"I'll show you."

I stood and she followed with her undoubtedly expensive bag over her shoulder and I walked with her to the door of one of the family changing rooms. "You can use it if it's unoccupied," I offered. I hesitated for just a moment, just long enough for her to slip inside. Her terse "Thanks" coincided with the sound of the door locking. I stood outside for longer than I should have.

**************************

Bethany wasn't all that interested in swimming. I didn't push her. It gave us time to talk. After a few afternoons, she seemed more comfortable with me. This meant that I was an easy receptacle for her anger at her mother.

"She ruined everything. It was all perfect before. She's so stupid."

I doubted that it was actually perfect before, but I was sure that it looked that way from the outside.

My next words were intended to show empathy. That's what I told myself, at any rate. I tried to strike an ironic tone, perhaps elicit a laugh. "I bet you'll have a new Mom before you know it." It landed badly. The girl stared daggers.

"Why would you say that?"

"You don't want a new Mom?"

"No way. Not that I liked my Mom. At all. But... I don't want some stranger..."

I touched her hand. She pulled it away. "Of course. How stupid of me to say that. I'm sorry."

She stared at the floor and sulked for a good minute, teeth at her lip. Then, "I never thought of that."

I shrugged. "It happens. Your Dad..."

"Ya. He's rich. Women look at him. I see it."

"He's not ugly either," I ventured.

The tiniest smile. "I guess not. For a Dad."

"He'll get lonely. Men get lonely. Then they do dumb things."

"Ya. Lonely. Ha ha. I know what you mean."

"I mean lonely. But..." I watched her carefully. "I suppose other things too."

"I'm not a baby. I know."

"I didn't mean that you don't. I just meant that it all runs together. All of the feelings, when you've been left alone by someone you thought loved you."

Perhaps she heard it in my voice. "Who left you?" Direct, this one.

"That's a story for another day. I think your Dad's here. At least he still has you, Bethany."

"As if he even notices." She winced as she said it.

"He's here, isn't he? Not his driver. I think he's trying. Give him a chance, maybe?"

I watched her bottom as she padded away.

**************************

The next day, after class, trailing our toes.

Bethany broke our quiet. "I can't stop thinking about what you said."

"Which what that I said?"

"About my Dad. And a new Mom."

"I was trying to be funny, Bethany. To cheer you up. But it was thoughtless and awful. I'm so sorry that I said that. "

"It's true though. There's a lady he works with. I dunno."

"Is she nice?"

Her reaction was acidic. "I don't care how fucking nice she is. She's not my Mom."

I saw a tear start to slide down her cheek. A few other kids were lingering and began to stare. I took her hand and led her away from the pool. We ended up at the door to the family changing room. I ushered her inside. She let me. I locked the door.

She fell into my arms easily, her head just at the swell of my breasts. Her hug was tight, almost desperate, the sobs wracking. I held her until the tremors subsided. Sat with her on the bench, holding both hands.

"I'm so embarrassed," she said.

"Don't be ridiculous. You've got every reason to feel everything you're feeling, and to let it out."

"I'm not a baby."

"Of course not. I wasn't either, when I lost... my family. But I was so angry that I... I let it out. Not in good ways, like crying. In worse ways. So... shush." I fetched a towel. She wiped her face and nose with it. Held it to her chest like a toddler might clutch a blanket.

"A nice hot shower would do you wonders," I said. She met my eyes, then looked at the showers. Three against the wall, an open space. She nodded a little but sat still.

I waited. "You want me to leave," I offered. It was a statement, not a question. I stood.

Her face was conflicted. The privilege of modesty. Her mother may have never seen her naked, never stooping to the level of hands-on child care when that's so much better done by the help.

"You're so nice." Her voice was tiny.

"You deserve nice."

She shook her head.

"And you're shy," I finished. "I understand." I took a step toward the door.

The sound of her voice, small as it was, seemed to echo from the tiles.

"Don't go." It wasn't _stay_. But it was enough.

I turned back and stood as she sat and shivered in her wet suit. I laid my hand on her cheek and raised her chin. She let her gaze drift, unsure where to look as I stripped off my suit and dropped it on the bench. Roses bloomed on her neck. I took her hand and led her to the warmth of the water. Silently she let me wash her hair and as it rinsed my arms enfolded her, my hands resting on the flat plane of her chest and tummy over the taut fabric. She closed her eyes and the steam swirled and I tugged ever so gently at the strap at her shoulder and she shut her eyes tighter and pressed back against me. It wasn't _yes_ but it was enough. Her hands touched mine as I peeled the suit over her narrow hips, her fingers flexing as if to clutch. Too little, too late. At the wet slap of fabric on tile her tension seemed to ease and she lifted her elegant feet one by one to step out. Hers eyes opened slowly, reluctantly, impossible now to deny her nakedness. She watched me rinse out her suit and wring it, her arms wanting to cover herself but instead swaying awkwardly. _I'm not a baby,_ she was thinking. I was proud of her.

A small eleven, her girlhood understated. She allowed me to dry her. I did it briskly, thorough but not lingering. By the end she managed a few words.

"Do you feel better?" I asked.

"Ya," she said, face and neck crimson, her hands tugging up her underpants, struggling to restore her modesty. "T-thanks."

I kissed her forehead. "You're welcome, Bethany."

"My Dad's probably waiting. What should I do? I don't know what to do."

"He loves you. Talk to him. Tell him how you feel. He'll listen, I bet. He's hurting too. Don't let him be lonely."

She twisted her mouth. "I'm not sure I know how to talk to him."

"Just start."

I let her go. My mind wandered. Just like when I was six, my hand wandered too.

**************************

"I told him." The next day, Bethany seemed emboldened.

"What did you tell him?"

"That I don't want a new Mom."

My eyes widened. "I see. How was that received?"

"He laughed. So I hit him."

"Oh. You did?"

"Ya. Not too hard. I hit him in the chest. I guess it got his attention."

"Well. So."

"Ya. He said, 'Not ever?' I hadn't really thought of that. So I said, 'Maybe not ever' and he said 'But maybe someday?' and I said 'Ya maybe someday but not soon.' and he said 'Okay then' and then we both laughed."

"Oh. That's... good?"

"Ya. I think so. It felt like we talked."

I rested my hand on her head. "I'm proud of you."

She glowed and turned away, dove into the water and swam with more intent than she'd ever shown.

**************************

"You never told me," said Bethany. We were in the family changing room, now our usual place after class. She was more comfortable now, though the blood always rose to her cheeks as she undressed.

"Told you what, sweetpea?"

"Who left you."

"Ah. Well. That's... a bit complicated."

"So. I want to hear."

"It was a man."

"Duh. Course it was."

"An older man."

"How old were you?"

"Older than you."

"Duh? You're not really answering."

"He was a man that I did everything for. And he decided he wanted somebody else."

"Why?" she asked, rolling black leggings up her slender calves.

"I wasn't what he wanted anymore."

"Why?"

"Because people change, Bethany."

"He changed, or you did?"

"So many questions." I was aghast that I'd sounded like my mother. Bethany turned away, disappointed.

The empty places opened up inside me and swallowed my reason. Can't lose her. My breath seemed to leave me. I took her hand searched her face until finally she came back, met my gaze.

"Okay. Okay. I'll tell you. I know that we're alike. We can trust each other."

I had her attention. She nodded earnestly.

"It was me who changed."

"How come?"

"I couldn't help it. I got older."

"But you're not old."

"I was much younger then. And that's what he wanted. Someone... very young."

Bethany's face was crinkled in confusion before her eyes slowly widened. "You did... everything?"

"Yes."

"H-how old... when you..."

A breath. "I was your age."

"No. Way. He raped you?"

"No. I begged him to. I wanted him so, you see. I wanted to be his everything."

"That's so weird. That's..."

"I know. That's why I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want you to misunderstand. I was in love. When you're in love, you'll do anything."

"But..." She surveyed her small body. I smiled.

"He was gentle. He loved me too, then."

"One girl in my class said she did it with a high school boy. I don't believe her."

"Girls tell stories. Boys do too. Some of them are true."

"Yours is true, I just know it." She seemed a little out of breath. I cupped her cheek.

"We understand each other, I think. That's special. Thank you for believing me."

She leaned in and kissed my cheek, her bare chest brushing my breasts. I held her there for a moment that wanted to be longer.

**************************

"My Dad asked me if you're a lesbian."

"How charming of him. What did you say?"

"I said no. Cuz of... you know... what you told me."

"I see."

"You're not. Are you?" Bethany was watching me calmly.

"No." I watched her back.

"But I was thinking."

"You were. That's good."

"Maybe you like both." She regarded me sheepishly.

I smiled. "Well. I like you."

She rolled her eyes. "I like you too, but that's not what I mean."

I took a deep breath, felt heat in my face. This wasn't staying inside any longer. "It is what _I_ mean."

"Oh." She shifted on the bench a little uneasily.

"I'm sorry if that bothers you. We don't ever have to be... in this room anymore."

"N-no. I just... you know... didn't know..."

She turned to me, her face a perfect mashup of want and fear. It wasn't possible to do nothing. At the touch of my fingers to the side of her cheek, she lifted her chin. It was enough. I kissed her lips, tentatively at first. She closed her eyes. I kissed her again and felt a return of pressure, a softening of her mouth against mine.

"So. Now you know."

"I kinda knew."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"No. It's okay. I think I knew when you... you know... took off my suit."

"I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay. I... thought about it... after." Rose in her cheeks, spreading to her chest.

I leaned into her and kissed her neck, felt her tremble. "When you thought about it... what did you do?"

Her small hand in my hair. It was enough. My hands insisted on her nudity and she relented, the warmth of her bare quim betraying her. I didn't waste much time with fingers. My chin parted her thighs, my tongue felt her urgently, thin sweet salt and chlorine, her fingers at my ears. Her shudder came quickly, thin ropes of muscle standing out in relief as she went rigid. She'd thought about this. It wasn't the first time I'd been in her head when she'd cum. I smiled as I kissed my way up her tummy, pausing at the tiny sharp points of her nipples. Her eyes blinked and darted before finally settling on mine.

"You're perfect, Bethany." I breathed the words out and drew in her scent to replace them. We were quiet.

After a time, she whispered. "I get it now."

"What do you get?"

"Why you'd do anything."

I kissed her lips with indelible softness.

**************************

Bethany's Dad was a piece of work. I could only imagine how arrogant he'd been before the current circumstances took him down a peg in the public's eye. He'd done asshole things and seemed surprised that people now thought he was an asshole. At least he was trying to make up for it with his daughter. He'd started coming earlier some days, before class was over. He'd sit in the bleachers and watch her. There was a gleam in his eye that I hadn't expected. His phone rang once and he actually turned it off. He was truly seeing her for the first time, I think.

His daughter, who needed him, and he her. This was the deepest cut for me.

I fall in love with them, you see. The girls I meet. Deeply, powerfully, overwhelmingly in love. It drives me to let my reason be consumed, leads me inexorably to the family changing room. But it can't be, of course. I always have to let them go before they leave me. I can't bear to be left again. For them, it's a dalliance, or a crush. For some it's deeper, a first love. But then they meet a beautiful boy. Or a girl, closer to their age.

"I figured it out," said my young lover.

"Uh oh." I teased her gently.

"No really. See. You. You be my new Mom. It's perfect. Dad's... well... rich. I think he likes you. When he asked if you were a lesbian I think maybe he was thinking if he should ask you out."

"It's more likely he thought I might have designs on his daughter."

"No way. He's got no clue."

"Good. I'm not the marrying kind, Bethany. And your Dad and I... I'm not sure we'd get along."

"You could have a whole wing of the house. We could, I mean." Her grin was impish, her blush compelling.

"I love that you want me to be part of your family, little one. I truly do." I kissed her forehead.

She pouted. "I thought it was perfect."

"Except for the part about me being his wife. If we were married, I think he'd want me in his wing of the house. In his bed."

"Oh. Ya. I guess so."

"He loves you, you know. I can see it."

"I guess maybe that's true now. I don't think it was before."

"So there's a silver lining," I said.

"I met you. That's the best part." I melted.

"Get your clothes off. Right now." She did.

**************************

It gets dark sometimes. I can't help it. It's not all silver linings. Reason leaves me and it leaves me exposed and perhaps just a little bit... unreasonable. There has to be a twist, you see. There's no straight lines in life. There can't be happily-ever-afters with adults and elevens. Not in this life, not in this world.

Class was ending. Bethany would be gone. Her Dad was taking her to Europe for the summer, blah blah blah. Fucking Paris. Fucking Rome. Fucking cultural education. It would be good for her. But I couldn't kiss her anymore.

I didn't want her to be lonely. I didn't want her to have a stranger in her life. A strange woman, who wasn't me. As ridiculous as it had been for her to propose that we make our relationship even less appropriate, I had to confess that my warped mind had almost tried to wrap around the idea. Fortunately my reason wasn't entirely gone. Not then at any rate.

We had two weeks left. We were sad. The darkness snuck up on me.

"There's something I didn't tell you. I'm not sure if I should."

Bethany was tucked under my arm as we sat on the bench. We clung to each other, these days.

"You should tell me," she said.

"You're going to think I'm very strange."

"I already do."

"Very funny."

"So tell me."

"The man I told you about. The one who... I'd do anything for."

"You mean your Dad." She blinked up at me, feigning innocence.

I stared at her. "Errr."

_"I knew it!"_ She squealed with laughter.

"You did not know that."

"I kinda did. I guessed. And I was right."

"So you were. Clever girl."

"It's weird. But why are you telling me?"

"Because you don't want a new Mom. And I don't want you to have one, unless it's exactly the one you want."

"I don't get it."

"If your Dad is lonely, he'll find a new wife."

"I guess so. He promised though."

"But that can't last, can it? Really, I mean. Think about it."

"I don't want to think about it."

"You have to, little one. But you can do something about it."

"Like what?"

"Don't let him be lonely."

"Keep him company?"

"Yes."

"But... so what? I don't get it."

I laid my cheek against hers, stroked her hair. "Don't let him be _lonely._ "

She pulled away. Her small round face was adorably astonished. "You can't mean that."

"I see how he looks at you. I know that look. He wasn't close to you until now. I don't think he ever really thought of you as his daughter, in the usual way. And you haven't really thought of him as your father, have you?"

"I guess. But... but..."

"I know it doesn't make any sense right now. It's the sort of thing that either makes no sense or perfect sense. I wanted to be his wife, you see. In every way there was. I wanted all of him. To me, it made perfect sense."

**************************

"You totally freaked me out yesterday."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's a stupid idea. I'm awful for saying it. I just... I'm going to miss you." Who was the little girl here? I was embarrassing myself.

"Me too," she said softly. She let me kiss her, but she was pensive.

"Did I ruin things?"

"No."

"I understand if you think I'm a freak."

"I don't."

"Is something else bothering you?"

"Ya."

"Tell me?"

"I can't stop thinking about it."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that. It's just... on the way home last night, in the car with him."

"Did something happen?"

"No. I mean. No. Just. I smelled him."

"Smelled him?"

"Not like leaned over and sniffed. Don't be weird. I noticed what he smelled like."

"Oh. What about it?"

"It's... nice. My Dad smells nice."

I felt a soft smile come to my face. "Mine did too."

She pulled at her ear, uncertain. Then, in a burst of words, "Tell me about him."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything. That you did."

"Are you sure?"

"I thought about it last night. About you and him. When you were like me."

"What did you do when you thought about it?"

She didn't need to answer. I talked softly and held her in my lap and touched her, thinking about her own hand, touching herself. "He saw me. When I was six. Touching... and he let me. And it was our secret, and not Mom's. That's how it started..." Her shudders came at intervals as my story spun out, both of us in a haze of need.

**************************

"I told him I hated what he did to Mom. He said he was sorry. He said he missed my whole childhood. He cried."

"He loves you."

"Ya. I held his hand."

"You love him too."

"Course I do."

"That wasn't true six weeks ago."

"Maybe. I don't really remember back then."

**************************

"I told him he smells nice."

I raised my eyebrows but didn't say anything.

"He said thanks."

"Just thanks?"

"Ya. Awks. Then he kissed my forehead. Like you do."

"Had he ever done that before?"

"Nope. What does it mean?"

"That you told him he smells nice, or that he kissed you?"

"I don't know. All of it."

"I don't know either. You have to decide."

"He does too. Doesn't he?"

"Yes. But you don't know how amazing you are. If you decide, he doesn't have a chance."

"I don't believe that."

"Look what you did to me."

I rocked her slowly in my arms.

**************************

I sat beside him, the next time he came early.

"She's not a very good swimmer," he said. I guess he was used to being direct. Privilege affords the luxury of not giving a fuck what other people think of you. To his credit, he checked himself. "Sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you haven't coached her well. She's just not that athletic."

"Thanks for clarifying. She's done well. Much stronger than when she started. In lots of ways."

He wasn't dumb. He didn't inherit his money. "How do you mean?"

"More confident. Less shy. She's a very sweet child. I think it's helped her to process... what she's been through."

He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. "I hardly know her." It was a quiet confession.

"Fix that. She wants to know you."

"She said something?"

"The first thing she said to me was that you were 'trying to be Dad all of a sudden.'"

"Ouch."

"Yesterday she told me that she loves you. That you apologized to her. And that you smell nice."

He chuckled. "She said that?"

"Girls talk. You know how it is."

"I think you know her better than I do."

"You've got the rest of your life to know her. Don't fuck it up."

"I know nothing about little girls."

"She's not a little girl anymore. Not on the inside. Maybe you're noticing that."

I watched him. He swallowed. I went on. "Don't be surprised by anything. Listen to her. You need each other."

Bethany lifted herself out of the pool and looked our way. Her Dad stood and stepped nimbly down the bleachers. He moved nicely too. She hugged him around the waist. I blinked. Were her legs suddenly longer? Her hips somehow wider? He'd realize soon that the chlorine from her wet hair would ruin his expensive shirt. From the look on his face, I didn't think he'd care.

**************************

"I have no idea what to do," said Bethany.

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know."

"When did you know that you wanted to be... with me?"

"When you kissed me."

"You're a very good kisser."

"I am?"

"Yes, you are." I kissed her.

**************************

"He was surprised," said my young swimmer.

"I told him not to be."

"Wait. What?"

"I told your Dad not to be surprised by anything. I guess he didn't listen."

"I think you're trying to get us to have sex."

"I'm trying to make you both think about what will make you happy."

"You want us to have sex because you had sex with your Dad." It was an observation, not an accusation.

I didn't deny it. It's part of me. "I hate it when people are lonely. Like you."

"I'm not lonely when I'm with you."

"I know. But we can't be forever, Bethany."

"I'll come back. From Europe."

"It won't be the same." I didn't say this to be cruel. I think she knew it was true too. "I don't want you to have another bad mother. That would kill me."

She was quiet, her head resting on my chest, idly teasing my nipple to hardness with her small fingers.

"So. You kissed him," I prompted.

"Ya. He was trying to kiss my cheek but I intercepted with my mouth."

I pinched her bottom and she squeaked. "Annnnnddddd?"

Her face flushed. She whispered. "It was different. It... made me wet."

My body reacted to her words. "Think about that now," I said. I ran my hand between her legs. We didn't talk again until she calmed from her tremors.

In the after, she mused as though talking to herself. "I almost want to have sex with him so I can tell you about it cuz it'll make you all bothered."

"You're an evil child," I said. "But if you ever do. And you want to tell me. Well."

She brushed my cheek with her lips. "He kissed me back. After. Just a little."

"Were you surprised?"

"Ya."

"I told you. He doesn't have a chance."

**************************

"If I wanted to. IF. I wanted to. Like... what do I do?"

"You know, I think. You have a phone. You've seen..."

"Porn, ya. Everybody sees porn. That's not what I mean."

"Oh. You mean, how do you proposition your Dad?"

"Err. Ya."

"I honestly don't know. I never had to deal with that."

"Big help you are."

"You kissed him. Do that again."

"I feel like I'm cheating on you."

"There's no such thing, little one. Follow your heart."

**************************

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes. A lot. At first. Then it's like nothing else. You'll never want to stop."

"You said he was gentle."

"I was small."

"I'm small."

"Yes, you are. But he'll be gentle."

**************************

We both cried on the last day.

She said she'd come back. I didn't argue.

**************************

On my phone, her face. The same, but different. Twelve now. The changes coming faster. Trying her best to look European, dressed in the exorbitance of Daddy's money. Pain and joy. I tried to hide the first.

"You look amaazzziinnngg." I meant it.

"I knoooowwwwww." She meant it.

There was nothing more to say for a moment. I went first. "I miss you."

"Me too." More quiet. Then her again. "You were right."

"That's a rarity."

"Is not. Anyway. You were." She looked over her shoulder, then back. "It hurts. A lot."

I smiled. I meant it. "Please tell me it wasn't some random Italian boy."

"It wasn't."

"Good. And... no new Mom?"

"Oh no. No new Mom. That's not gonna happen." Her grin said enough.

I felt my eyes well. "I love you, Bethany."

"I love you too. I got to go. I'm in Rommmmmmmeee."

_I'd love to hear your feedback. You can contact me at[joshua.woode@hushmail.com](mailto:joshua.woode@hushmail.com?subject=Gale%20Force%20Winds)  
_


End file.
